


Glamour

by One and Five Nines (Obani)



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Non consensual voyuerism, Steve tears, Vibrators, depressing orgasms, guilty masturbation, outside perspective
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-13
Updated: 2018-08-13
Packaged: 2019-06-26 16:20:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,527
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15666822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Obani/pseuds/One%20and%20Five%20Nines
Summary: Ears everywhere





	Glamour

The life of a Hydra agent was not nearly as glamorous as Sitwell had promised. Claire had been told there would be adventure and epic struggles between good and evil and significant monetary compensation, but so far none of those empty words were bearing any fruit. She made a regular SHIELD agent salary, spent her days stuck in a cubicle, and the only struggle she experienced was the daily struggle to keep her eyes open during her surveillance duties.

It wasn't as though she hadn't been just as excited as everyone else on the planet to learn that _Captain America_ was still alive (and still young and handsome to boot), and seeing him fighting during the Battle of New York had been breathtaking. She’d been there, in the thick of it, witnessed firsthand the miracle of science that Steve Rogers had become. It wasn't the kind of thing you ever forgot, not as long as you lived.

But, the facts were the facts. Listening to someone, anyone, live their day-to-day life was _boring_. It wasn't as though Captain Rogers brushed his teeth particularly heroically. The sounds of his laundry being folded didn't exactly inspire the same awe that watching him handle his shield against Chitauri soldiers did. Plus… if Claire was being really, _really_ honest with herself… Rogers was kind of a boring dude.

He didn't even watch TV. He read books, and while that was all well and good for him, listening to him turn pages for hour after hour turned Claire’s brain the consistency of pudding. She heard pages turning in her dreams now. Occasionally he would clatter around in the kitchen, supposedly learning how to use food now that food was readily available, but god forbid he watch a cooking video that Claire could listen to. Of course, he read _cookbooks_ , flipping through their pages like a rerun of Claire's perpetual audio nightmare.

Besides boring, Rogers was solitary. No friends ever stopped by, and Rogers himself almost never went out. Once or twice, always to Avengers-related events. She could hear him in the bathroom, practicing things he could say to each of them. Stark seemed to be the toughest nut for him to crack, because he always seemed to circle back to him during his practice small talk. Very, very occasionally Rogers would get a phone call from Bruce Banner, but those always seemed a little awkward. He never brought women home either, not even once, and at first Claire couldn’t fathom _why_. It wasn’t as though _Captain America_ couldn’t find willing partners. It didn’t take long to figure out the truth, though.

He cried quietly to himself far more times than Claire made note of in her reports, often when he was trying -and failing- to sleep, but sometimes just out of the blue, unprompted. It was such a raw, private thing, but the more often she heard it, the less Claire felt the acidic squirm of guilt writhing around in the pit of her stomach. Still, every time she found herself considering what it would be like to lose everyone, everything, all at once. To wake up one morning and find that her father and sister were dead, her friends were dead, her boyfriend was… to not even have a home to come back to. These were not thoughts she could dwell on for long. How could anyone just start over? What was he supposed to do, get a Tinder? Everything seemed so shallow in the face of that immense loss.

So, when rumors started going around that Rogers had ordered a fucking _vibrator_ on the internet, Claire wasn’t exactly shocked. He was a sad, lonely guy. At the very least he could get his rocks off. Besides, she’d heard him jerk off plenty of times before; she knew he did it. It was a little surprising to hear that a dude older than her grandfather was choosing to spice up his alone time in that _particular_ way, but who was she to judge? Especially since she was listening in on his alone time like some kind of voyeur and, shamefully, getting off on it herself. Not _at work_ obviously, but when she got home the sounds of _Captain America_ moaning and panting while he touched himself stuck in her mind, conjuring images that had Claire climbing on her boyfriend like a feral animal or reaching for her own vibrator.

He’d been awkward with it at first, and the toy had stayed in this bedside drawer more often than not. Practice had made perfect, however, and these days there was very little fumbling around with it between the _click_ and _squirt_ of lube being uncapped and applied, and the _buzz_ of it being turned on. Then Rogers would sigh, almost out of relief more than pleasure.

It was New Year's Eve, and Claire was stuck working the late shift. She'd traded this shift so she could have time off on her birthday, but now she was wishing that she was out at some party, counting down the minutes until midnight with everyone else. Even boring, solitary Steve Rogers had bothered to leave his apartment. Despite having almost died less than a week ago, Stark was throwing a New Year’s party and Rogers had actually decided to go. Good for him, but it made Claire's surveillance utterly pointless. Instead of getting champagne drunk and kissing her boyfriend, she was stuck listening to nothing and playing some of the old school arcade games she'd found poorly hidden on SHIELD’s server.

Claire thought that was how the whole night would go, until she heard the rattle of keys in Roger's lock just a little after midnight. Without even pausing her game of Centipede, she turned the volume up ever so slightly. There was a 99% chance that he would just go straight to sleep after leaving the party so early, but god forbid Claire miss the one time Rogers did something noteworthy. There was a first time for everything, after all.

Rogers paced around as he got ready for bed. It was odd; it was as though he kept getting lost inside his own apartment. This was very unlike him. Between the perfect memory and preternatural grace granted by Erksine’s Serum, Rogers always did everything cleanly and efficiently. Something had thrown him for a loop.

As predicted, he went straight to bed, but he didn't go right to sleep. He lay there motionless for seven rounds of Centipede, then tossed and turned for another few rounds. Claire knew what was coming next, and she did actually pause her game. She wasn't going to be able to focus on it.

There was a sound of a drawer being opened, then _click, squirt, buzzzzzz._

He gasped, as if feeling it inside him for the first time all over again. The sigh came after, and Claire had to wonder what he looked like when he sighed like that. Did his cheeks flush? Did he smile? Sometimes Claire wondered if he even enjoyed doing this, or if it was just something he needed. Between the buzzing vibrator and the steady, muffled sounds of Rogers stroking himself, she could barely hear the little noises he made. Just little mumbles, often non-verbal, but occasionally little words would tumble out. _Mhmm. Wow. Yes. Tony._

Rogers and Claire gasped in unison. She'd misheard that last one, hadn't she? There was no way Rogers had just said

_Tony._

This time there was a deliberateness to the word, as if he was trying it out… trying out what it felt like to say Stark’s name while he… oh. Oh. _Holy shit._

A little louder this time, but not without trepidation he moaned, “Tony, Tony, oh Tony.” He seemed to have found his groove, but Claire was reeling. Captain America was _gay_. He was gay and he wanted, of all people, _Tony Stark_. It was true that after New York, after he flew into that wormhole, nobody could deny that Stark was a hero. He was also an arrogant lech with a nasty history, and Captain America was _Captain America_.

Claire was bewildered by her own hands as they typed into her report: _1:13 AM - Rogers is gay or possibly bisexual, and interested in Stark_. After chewing on it for a moment she added: _this isn't a joke I'm being dead serious._

Meanwhile, Rogers was getting close to being done. He was never loud, but he seemed to no longer be embarrassed about saying -pleading- Stark’s name.

“Tony, oh please Tony. _Please_.”

Finally, with a soft, desperate gasp, he came. The buzzing stopped, and the silence afterward was heavy.

There were many, many things Rogers had done that Claire knew she should not have heard, things that should have stayed private. The fact that he had practically _begged_ for Stark while orgasming was high on the list.

Rogers seemed to know what he had done, because when he finally spoke his voice was so pitiful and broken, you would have thought it was the end of the world.

“Oh, God.”

Claire made an addendum to her note:  _I think he's got it real real bad._

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> hi I finally did the thing I said I'd do on tumblr


End file.
